


How Angels Love

by Mickidona



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angel England (Hetalia), Human France (Hetalia), M/M, Slow Build, warnings may change as the fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mickidona/pseuds/Mickidona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is a young angel, fresh out of his training and ready for his first job as a lost angel. His charge, Francois, proves to be more of a difficulty than he first expected, particularly when their relationship becomes tighter; but nothing will happen. Angels aren't supposed to fall in love with humans, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Angel in Training

“Angels do not fall in love with humans.”

It’s more a guideline than a rule, really, and most are smart enough to heed its warning well. There is the occasional one, the angel who comes home with tearstained cheeks and a broken heart, but like everything else, a heart can heal, and eventually they move on.

Arthur didn’t pay much attention to this ‘guideline’ anyway, it was unimportant to the young angel, who considered love a social construct. He’d had a few letters, the occasional lovesick valentine, but the heavenly beings around him quickly learnt that Arthur simply didn’t care for love.

He was training to be a lost angel, not quite as highly trained as a celestial messenger, but a few ranks above a simple invisible guardian. It would be his job to act the part of a lost man, a tourist or something similar, and let himself be led through life by a human. These humans had usually lost someone, a sibling or child, and needed a new person to guide through life.

Arthur rather liked the sound of that, of exploring a new place with a willing guide, and of course, like all angels, he liked the idea of making someone happy just by existing. It’s a nice thought, especially for someone like Arthur.

* * *

What a wonderful feeling it was, to be graduating as dux of his rank. Nearly two thousand angels made up Delta Rank, and he’d topped them all. Not surprising, really, when one saw how hard Arthur studied for his grades. He wasn’t the most gifted of angels, though certainly not stupid, and he worked hard to do well. It certainly payed off.

He mounted the stage with a rather uncharacteristic smile, accepting his papers with a handshake, and stood proudly in front of his classmates as the final speeches were given. The honour wasn’t just material either; he’s get first pick at the potential cases to work on - or rather, with. Not that it really mattered to Arthur, he’d probably just pick the first person with ‘kind’ listed in their description and get on with it, but the privilege was nice.

And indeed, when he went to choose from the thousands of leaflets pinned up in the main common room, Arthur decided that the first one he picked up ought to be alright. A young man, twenty one years old, kind, brotherly, lost his little brother in a motor vehicle accident two years ago. He hadn’t driven since, and was in need of a good close friend to love and guide. He seemed just what Arthur was looking for, so he signed his name across the bottom of the page and slipped it through the inbox slot.

He’d go to Earth the very next day, and was rather looking forward to it, so he headed straight home and to bed. It took a few hours to get to sleep; no doubt he was excited for his first assignment, but he drifted off eventually with a smile on his face.

* * *

“Got your papers there, lad?”

“Right here,” Arthur nodded, handing over the signed documents that detailed who he was, his school records, job description, and description of his charge.

“Seems to be all in order,” smiled the attendant, tucking the papers into a slot before sliding open the door of a pod, and gesturing for Arthur to get inside. “There’s a set of clothes in there, a small amount of money in a purse, all packed up inside a nice canvas bag. Just knock three times when you’re ready and I’ll send you on your way.”

Arthur nodded again, smiling back just a little before stepping carefully into the pod, and closing the door. The clothes were easy enough to put on, a pair of tan slacks, a button up shirt, and a pair of black shiny shoes, just like the people in the films they watched in class. He folded up his robes and put them in the corner, slung the canvas bag over his shoulder, and rapped three times on the door.

Everything went black.


	2. He Had a Dimple

Suddenly everything was black, then a blinding white, then deafening black again. He jerked to the side, thinking there was something there, before falling, falling endlessly, stomach jumping into his throat, then it was silent. Silence, for a moment, then a bright light flashing in his eyes, a loud honking, and Arthur threw his hands up to shield his eyes from the light in shock.

Something slammed into him from behind, knocking the wind from him and landing him roughly on his side. A person was lying over him, shaking their head to rid themselves of the shock, before sitting up and placing a gentle hand on Arthur’s cheek.

“Monsieur, are you okay?”

Arthur blinked, staring up at the radiantly backlit man above him. Long hair, for a man, sweeping across his shoulders and falling down to curtain his face as he leant over the young angel. Brilliant blue eyes with a hint of green, reminiscent of the ocean on a sunny day, gently tanned skin over high cheekbones, carefully maintained eyebrows, full, heart shaped lips, and a handsome shadow of stubble over his strong jaw. Beautiful, and exactly who he was looking for.

“Fine, I’m… I’m just fine,” he nodded, trying not to gape up at the man, who was significantly more stunning in person. “What-what happened?”

“You nearly got hit by a truck, _sot rosbif_ , you must watch where you’re going!” The man leant back, brushing his hair back with one hand, and stood, holding one hand out to help Arthur up.

“Francois Bonnefoy,” he smiled, hoisting Arthur easily to his feet.

“Arthur, Arthur Kirkland,” the angel said hastily, taking a moment to look around and orient himself. It appeared that he’d landed in the middle of a road, right in front of a car, which Francois had pushed him out of the way of, thank goodness.

“A pleasure to meet you, Arthur,” Francois continued, lifting Arthur’s hand and pressing a quick kiss to his knuckles. “The handsomest Englishman I’ve had the pleasure of laying eyes on!”

Arthur raised a sceptical eyebrow, turning his outside shoulder away from the blond, conscious of the light blush dusting his cheeks.

“I appreciate the compliment, _monsieur_ , but I’m afraid I fail to see what my looks have to do with anything.”

“Nothing at all,” laughed the Frenchman, letting Arthur take his hand back. “So, Arthur Kirkland, what brings a young man like you to France?”

“A change of scenery,” he shrugged, “I like to explore. I just need to find a place to stay.”

“Ah, you’re in luck, _mon petit Anglais_ , I have found myself in a hotel room with two beds, and there is only one of me. Should you care to join me, I promise the only pay I require is your company.”

From any other man, it would have been an easily declinable offer. Kind stranger offering foreigner a place to stay, an offer too good to refuse? He’d be stupid to accept. But this was certainly the man he was to look after, the man to take him on as an apprentice to life in order to calm the demons of his past, and Arthur could see the hope in his eyes, the thinly veiled excitement at seeing a lost young man, eager to guide him into happiness.

“Well, I don’t see why not,” he nodded smartly, reshouldering his bag and straightening his back. “Shall we?”

_“Allons-y!”_

* * *

The walk back to his hotel was rather pleasant, Francois thought. Arthur was a strange little man, couldn’t have been older than eighteen, and yet seemed completely unfazed by the fact that he’d nearly been hit by a truck.

But he was definitely cute, in an odd sort of way that took the Frenchman by surprise. At first he just seemed an average person, blond, a bit ruffled perhaps, a set of entirely boring clothes. But after shoving him onto the footpath and ending up on top of him, Francois had noticed a rather delicate beauty in Arthur.

He had round, childish cheeks, flushed from the impact and decorated with a light spattering of freckles. His eyebrows were thick, considerably darker than the messy, light blond fringe half covering them, but they framed his eyes beautifully, and oh, his eyes, what stunning eyes! A vivid green, speckled with golds and browns and golden browns, beautifully intricate forests bloomed in those eyes as though they were magic. And to top it all off, he had a dimple. Really, could this man get any cuter?

It was odd, though, how you had to look twice to see his beauty, like there was some sort of shield around him that took a closer look to disassemble. It reminded him of someone but he pushed the thought from his mind, focussing on the fact that said cute man was currently walking beside him, smiling at the trees with something akin to innocence.

“Tell me, Arthur,” he hummed, folding his arms across his chest. “You are a teenager, I’d estimate eighteen, nineteen, old enough to be on your lonesome, non?”

“Eighteen,” nodded the Brit, dragging his eyes from the trees to look up at Francois. “Why?”

“I only wonder what an eighteen year old British boy is doing in France, on his own, with only the ‘change of scenery’ as his alibi. Care to indulge me?”

“No I do not _care to indulge you_ ,” Arthur muttered, tugging on the strap of his bag. “You know my name and age, you may learn more when you earn my trust.”

Well, it was fair enough, so Francois only nodded and continued to walk, humming softly to himself rather than talking.

It didn’t take long to reach his hotel, he’d simply gone on a stroll when he’d found the young blond, so when they reached the rather dingy looking place he spread his arms and smiled.

“ _Hotel la Mont!_ Or as I like to call it, _Hotel la Merde_ ,” Francois snorted, perhaps a little ashamed of where he’d been living for almost a week. “Shall we?”

The inside was marginally better than the outside, at least. The peeling wallpaper was rather distasteful, but the hallway seemed fairly clean, and Arthur didn’t catch sight of any suspicious insects or rodents. Not ideal by any means, but it could be worse.

“I do apologise to bring you to such a place,” the Frenchman sighed dramatically, unlocking his door and holding it open for Arthur, who entered. “But I spend so little time here, and I don’t wish to spend money on a place I rarely inhabit. Well, that and there’s the fact I have little money to spend as of this moment… but that, my dear friend, is beside the point!”

He slung an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, missing the flinch, and pulled him into the middle of the room with a flourish.

“Here we have, the bedroom! The kitchen diner, to your left, _la télévision_ , to your right, and if we lean to the right just a smidgen more, the bathroom! And, as they say, it may not be much, but it is home, and I hope you will be happy as long as you stay.”

Arthur carefully removed Francois’ arm from his shoulders, stepping just a little away from the man so as to inspect the hotel room. There were only two rooms, two beds, a television, a small table and chair, and a miserable looking kitchenette all crammed into one, with a shower, loo, and crooked sink in the other. There was no charming homeliness here, no knick knacks on the windowsill or favoured floral bedspread, it was generic and boring and couldn’t have suited Francois less.

“This is your home,” Arthur said doubtfully, looking up at the man who looked so handsomely dressed. “It’s… certainly something.”

“Well,” Francois chuckled, hearing what Arthur wasn’t saying. “Well, you see, this is a temporary space, I… I happen to be avoiding my parents, you see, a trivial matter we disagreed over, and seeing as I only have what money I had in my pockets when I left, I’m stuck here for the moment.”

He flashed that charming smile again, but Arthur wasn’t convinced. Then again, it was getting rather late, and he was sure they’d both benefit from a good sleep.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, making an effort to seem noncommittal. “Just show me which bed is mine, and we can talk more in the morning, alright?”

“Alright,” Francois agreed, smile almost slipping from his lips in confusion. What an odd man. “You’re on the left.”

Arthur nodded, ducking into the bathroom to pull his clothes off, emerging in a white undershirt and briefs, the only things he really had to sleep in, then slipped under the covers with a yawn.

Francois was already in bed, naked as the day he was born though quite covered by the duvet, luckily for Arthur.

“Goodnight, Arthur,” he murmured, switching off his bedside lamp and throwing the pair into darkness.

“Goodnight, Francois.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters will hopefully be getting longer, but I'm a little bogged by schoolwork at the moment. Apologies for the lack of interest in this chapter.


	3. We Can Be Friends

Considering it was an Earth bed, and a rather cheap Earth bed at that, Arthur slept quite well, curled up around both the pillow and his bear. By the time he managed to blink his eyes open and roll out of bed, Francois was already in the bathroom, and Arthur could see him through the open door, rubbing something pinkish over his face.

“Ah, _bonjour_ , Arthur,” he called out, smiling at his new friend. “Sleep well?”

“As well as one can on such a mattress,” Arthur yawned, stretching his shoulders and wincing when his back cracked. “Any plans for the day?”

“Non, I took a few days off work,” he said conversationally, rubbing the last of the cream into his skin. “I thought I might show you around the city, hm? You are in Paris, Arthur, the most beautiful city in the world! I cannot let you go without showing you the sights.”

“If you wish it,” Arthur shrugged, “I’d rather like that. Can you really just climb the Tower?”

“You really can,” grinned the Frenchman, grabbing his own bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “ _We_ really can, if you like, but we’d better go; checkout in half an hour!”

Half an hour seemed plenty of time to put on his shoes and get downstairs, but Francois was in some sort of rush, so he pulled them on quickly and grabbed his bag, stuffing his teddy into it before pulling it on.

“Let’s go,” Francois grinned, grabbing Arthur by the hand and tugging him downstairs, sliding his key across the lobby desk with a wink before continuing outside at breakneck speed. He pulled Arthur across the road and into a park and dropped onto the grass, pulling the blond with him, both of them panting hard.

“You look like you need some excitement in your life,” he laughed, taking a moment to breathe before propping his chin up on his hand to smile at Arthur. “You could also do with some sun, you practically glow!”

Arthur just stared for a while, giving Francois a look that clearly said ‘you’re crazy’. What on earth did he mean, excitement? He thought the life he led was fairly interesting, really, perhaps he just gave the illusion of boringness on the outside.

“I’d hardly call that excitement,” he said finally, rolling his eyes and staring up at the leaves above them. “I suppose you might be right, though, hence why we’re going sightseeing, correct?”

“Everything in Paris is a sight to see, my friend, you’re going to have the time of your life,” Francois grinned, showing off a perfectly white set of teeth.

“If you say so,” he snorted, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “It’s certainly beautiful out here, just look at the marble bark, the mottled sunlight over the grass, absolutely stunning!”

“If you think this is beauty, you should see my garden,” smiled the Frenchman, amused by Arthur’s admiration of something as simple as a tree. “I suppose the gardeners will be looking after it now, but I used to water and weed that little courtyard all on my own. Lovely little place to read, or paint, I think you’d like it.”

“Why don’t you show me? It sounds gorgeous, I’d love to see.”

“Ah, perhaps not,” Francois laughed, rubbing his neck a little awkwardly. “Like I said, my parents and I, we’re not on the best terms right now. They seem to think I could have stopped a certain thing from happening, they like to insinuate that I _intended_ on it happening, which I assure you could not be further from the truth!” He paused, appearing to be fending off tears for a moment, before sighing and giving an apologetic smile.

“It’s difficult to explain, but…I simply need time to forgive them.”

Arthur frowned, narrowing his eyes to inspect the man for a moment. It was as clear as day that he was hiding something, but Arthur wasn’t sure he had enough of Francois’ trust to ask further questions.

“As long as you’re happy,” he said finally, laying his head back down and closing his eyes.

Francois was visibly relieved, breathing a quiet sigh and laying more comfortably on the grass.

“What about you, Arthur?” He pronounced it in such a French way, it almost annoyed the angel. “What are your plans, here in France?”

“Well, there aren’t really plans, I suppose,” he hummed, tracing languid circles on the grass. “I want to meet new people, in a way… maybe just make a friend. I don’t have a lot of friends back home.”

“Then your goal is reached! I will be your friend.”

“Yeah, sure you will. Save a man from being run down and now you want to be friends with him?”

“I am lonely,” Francois shrugged, giving Arthur a crooked smile. “I miss my family, my friends are in other countries, and my last boyfriend is long gone. You are my new chance!”

“Chance,” he repeated, frowning. “Chance for what, exactly?”

“For many things! For friendship, for companionship, for a shoulder to lean on,” Francois beamed, waving his hands around enthusiastically.

“That seems an awful lot for someone you’ve just met,” he snorted, rolling his eyes and thinking that the man must be quite mad. “You’re terribly presumptuous, you know that?”

“I know,” chuckled the Frenchman, jabbing Arthur in the side only to have his hand smacked rather painfully. “And you are terribly standoffish, do you know this?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “If I’m so standoffish, why are you still here? Surely you have somewhere better to be than in a park with me.”

“I have told you, silly! I have no work until Monday, so I am free to stay here and annoy you.”

“Wonderful,” Arthur snorted, fishing around for some reason to stay. He’d hardly anticipated his charge being an annoying Frenchman, but he couldn’t abandon his job, could he? “Well… if you’ve nothing to do, why don’t you show me around the place?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Francois beamed. He’d been waiting for that. “Come, petit, we have a city to see!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with this chapter, but the next is showing promise. Sorry for the wait!  
> Thank you MoshiMoshiTitanDesu for the French help!!


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